Her fifth trial run, to be exact. She’d been on patrol before—twice with her trainer, Camille, and twice with Mr. Alvarez, the leader of the Guardians. They’d both been so overbearing that she swore the only way she’d continue was if they let her fly free. But not too free, as it turned out, since she’d roped me into coming along with her. Mom hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of me going on patrol, but both she and Mr. Alvarez had approved the plan.

“You’re going to have to make a decision sooner or later,” I said. “Unless you plan to be on trial runs until you’re sixty.”

“I don’t know. That might increase the odds of me living to sixty.”

I didn’t have a response for that. Being a Guardian was dangerous—and nothing I said would change that. Especially since I suspected the only reason Mr. Alvarez had allowed a half-trained Guardian and an uncalled Amplifier to patrol on their own was my boyfriend, Leon. Leon was my Guardian; he knew whenever I was in trouble. If Tink and I ran into any problems—be they human or Harrower—Leon would sense it, and he’d swoop in to save the day.

He’d offered to come with us tonight, but Tink said she refused to be a third wheel on her own patrol. Instead, Leon was sitting at home, finishing up homework for one of the summer courses he was taking.

At least, he was doing that in theory. In reality, he was mostly just texting me.

Tink shot me an annoyed look when my phone buzzed again. “That’s like the six hundredth time he’s texted you,” she said.

Admittedly, I had lost count, but that number sounded a bit high. I shrugged. “He’s worried.”

“Why? Doesn’t he have some inner Guardian alarm system that alerts him if any danger crosses your path? I thought you told him to stop being so overprotective. Isn’t that the point of all the training you’ve been doing?”

“Yeah, well, he’s still working on that.” Because Leon had been called to guard me, his primary instinct was to keep me from harm—usually by teleporting me away at the first sign of danger. But since I’d developed the ability to amplify powers, I was no longer quite so vulnerable. We’d been training together for the past few months, though we hadn’t had much chance to put it into practice.

“Allow me.” Tink snatched the phone out of my hands and tapped out a response. Still not dead. Will notify you if status changes.

I laughed. “Wow, punctuation and everything.”

“I’m just helping you maintain a healthy relationship by reminding him that you are the one in charge.”

I shook my head. Tink’s idea of a healthy relationship involved a lot more drama than mine did. Since her own boyfriend, Greg, was spending the next two months with his grandparents in Denmark, their on-again off-again relationship was currently off. According to Tink, anyway. I’m just saving him from having to dump me again when he meets some tall, gorgeous Danish girl with perfect hair and actual breasts, she’d told me. But she’d also sworn off boys for the rest of the summer, so I figured she was hoping he’d return to her, after all. I wasn’t certain how she planned to explain her new Guardian activities to him, if they did get back together—but knowing Tink, the thought of leading a double life probably appealed to her.

We turned another corner, where the arrangement of cars was less dense. Nearby, a bicycle lay on its side in a stretch of overgrown grass. Some kids had drawn a hopscotch court on the sidewalk in green and pink chalk, along with a few crooked hearts and the blurred letters of what had once been a name. Tink took out her phone, scanning the directions she’d typed on it. “Three more blocks this way, then we head back the other direction,” she said.

“Is this the route you took before?”

“No. Ryan switches up the patrols every night so we don’t look like a bunch of stalkers.”

“Since when is it Ryan instead of Mr. Alvarez?”

She made a face. “Since I look like an idiot when I’m the only Guardian who calls him Mr. Alvarez.”

Or maybe since he’d talked to her about her father, I guessed. Tink had long believed that her father had betrayed the Kin—until Mr. Alvarez set the story straight.

I was about to respond when a sudden shift of light from down the block caught my attention.

At first, all I saw was a silhouette: the darkened outline of a figure turned away; the soft sway of long hair; the slope of a shoulder; a shadow taking shape. Then there was movement. A single step, and then another. Someone crept slowly across the sidewalk toward us, and that someone wasn’t human. Knowing slid into my senses. I felt a familiar chill up and down my spine. Harrower.

I caught Tink by the arm, pulling her to me. “Stop.”

She froze, her body tensing. We stared, wordless, as the demon took another shuffling step forward.

Sound and color died out around us. The hush in the street became a hush in the world. Everything felt abruptly distant—the parked cars, the houses, the whine of insects, the heavy, heat-glazed sky. Harrowers confused perceptions, so I reminded myself to focus. To see. I concentrated on what was solid, what was real. The thin fabric of Tink’s sleeve. The sidewalk beneath me.

I watched the demon, studying her. She was wearing her human skin. From far away, she appeared to be only a girl. Her face was a pale oval, her hair a shock of red. Like Susannah, I thought. Susannah, who had smiled as she killed her way through the Cities in her search for the Remnant. For a second my heart seemed to stop. But Susannah was dead, I told myself—dead at my own hands. This girl, this demon, was not her.

I clenched a fist, glancing at Tink. She hadn’t moved since she’d seen the Harrower. I wasn’t even certain she was still breathing. Her lips were parted slightly, and her own hands were slack at her sides, no Guardian lights flaring beneath her fingertips.

“We need to do something,” I whispered, shaking her lightly. At the end of the block, the Harrower continued inching toward us. Her red hair swung as she moved.

Tink edged backward, escaping my grip, and then turned toward me. Her eyes were huge. “This is totally your fault.”

“What? Why?”

“You wanted something exciting to happen.”

“So? I’d also like a million dollars to drop into my lap, but I don’t see any money falling from the sky, do you?”

“That is wishful thinking. This was tempting fate.”

If I hadn’t been worried about the Harrower, I would have rolled my eyes. “Can you maybe blame me later? Like after we take care of the demon?”

Tink hesitated. She glanced down at her left hand, where the first hint of colors began to shine under her skin, thin light twining in summer yellow and pale violet. She cradled her arm against her. “Do you think we could reason with her?”

I looked down the sidewalk. The demon was still some distance away, but that distance was closing step by step. “You want to reason with a Harrower? How?”

“You know…she goes back Beneath, we don’t fight, no one has to get hurt.”

“I don’t think she’s going to like that plan.”

Closer now, I could see the demon’s expression. She was grinning at us, her mouth wide, red teeth gleaming. Her human disguise was flawed. Here and there, a trace of silver could be seen under her flesh. Her eyes were milky and flat.

Flickers of Knowing pulsed through me. I could read this demon easily, whether or not I wished to—but I sensed none of the coldness or cunning I’d felt from other Harrowers. Nothing even akin to conscious thought. She was all images, quick flashes of noise and color. I caught only impressions: a blood-streaked sky, the click of talons. The hot hiss of breath between snapping jaws. Scales. Saliva. There was hate within this Harrower, but no focus or intent. She seemed almost feral.

Tink was watching her, too. The glow of light within her wrist was bright now, but she was trembling. Her slim shoulders quivered. “Oh, God,” she breathed. “Why did I ever agree to do this?”